I want to preface this post by saying that my host family here is fanfreakingtastic. I love them as if I were related to them, and I feel like an actual part of their family: an older sister, a cousin, a niece, a granddaughter. My host sister, Rosario (who would like everyone to know she’ll be six very soon), apparently threw her school psychologist for a loop when she started telling people she had an older sister from the United States. I’ve known Amparo, the two-year-old, for practically a quarter of her life. I will cry when I leave them, and I know my host mom will be right there with me. My mamita and tía (grandmother and aunt) have asked me when I’m coming back to Chile, and I haven’t even left yet.

When you are in a foreign country, you walk around with wide eyes, comparing this and that between your host country and your home country, you realize the flaws of your host country and your home country, you defend your host and home country from the ridiculous stereotypes…  This election has been a roller coaster from the get go, and walking around the streets of Santiago on November 9th gave me that sort of nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Being in CIEE’s Santiago de Chile program has been an extraordinary and seemingly-existential experience thus far.  I’m having a wonderful time, my host family is so nice and so supportive—I couldn’t imagine a better housing arrangement—my classes are so interesting and thought-provoking, and Santiago (well… Chile, itself, really) is full of unexpected adventures.

Unfortunately, my first blog will not be a very happy one.  A strong message presented itself on August 4th and I felt compelled to share it with all of you.